Friday, June 29, 2012

Death to the One-Trick Ponies!

Okay, so before some hysterical chucklehead calls the SPCA, let me just say that the above title has nothing to do with animals.
I love animals.
I really do.
They’re delicious!
Okay, calm down. What I am actually railing against today are those annoying zealots who post their one obsessive opinion again and again and again on various websites and social networks.
Don’t like President Obama, fine by me. Want to hang the 1% ers, knock yourself out. Against abortion, state your case. Animal lover? Me too. Gay rights, let me get my party hat.
 I’m willing to listen to whatever you feel is important and will pay attention while you yammer on and on
We all have opinions, some popular, some not. Politically, I consider myself a radical moderate. And as such, I firmly believe everyone should be respectful and tolerant of other people’s ideas and opinions and because I believe that SO strongly, I’ll shoot any sonavabitch who says different.
But seriously folks, I cannot stand people constantly harping on one topic. I’ll give an example. I’m on Facebook and Twitter to sell my books. They are wonderful books and I’m working very hard to convince my friends and followers to buy some.
But that’s not the only thing I SHARE, Twitter or Blog about.
 If I see a beautiful work of art, I put it out there. Same thing for a good photo, an interesting piece of scientific information, a funny joke, a clever comment, an important news story, or a photo of a beautiful woman, yeah, I go the whole 360 because I want to entertain you. Over a period of time, I’m hoping you’ll say to yourself, ‘I enjoy this guy’s posts. Maybe his books are just as entertaining. I’m going to go to Amazon or Barnes and Noble and download one to my electronic device.
And should you feel the need to do that right now, here’s the link
And may whatever deity you subscribe to, bless you!
But back to the matter at hand.
If all you can post or tweet about is how much you hate or disagree with President Obama, or if you’re obsessed with being for or against gay rights, or for or against drug legalization, or the tea baggers, or the 1 % ers...
Please ‘Unfriend” me.
Because whatever we’re absolutely convinced will destroy America, probably won’t and those serving on the Supreme Court know a lot more about constitutional law than we do.
Today, the Supremes decided that ‘Obamacare’ or ‘Healthcare Reform’ if you prefer, was constitutional.
Everybody went nuts.
Here’s the deal.
In America, the number of those for it and against it were about even. It was the same with the Supreme Court. It easily could have gone either way. The deciding vote was cast by a highly regarded, experienced, conservative jurist appointed by a very conservative President George W. Bush.
So if Roberts, a judge who everyone was sure would vote against it, considered it important enough to cross party-lines, to state what he felt was in the best interests of the nation, then maybe we should accept it and move on.
We will always disagree on certain topics, some very intensely. There’s Abortion, The 2nd amendment, gay rights, state’s rights, illegal immigration, yada, yada, yada.
The bottom line is, as Americans, we need to trust our system. We need to believe that it works and accept that sometimes, no matter how sure we are that the government is wrong, accept the ruling when the final decision is made.
To use trickery, technicalities, propaganda, rabble-rousing, spin doctoring, misinformation and plausible deniability to corrupt the system to get the results we desire is treason. Because as we fight for our rights we must remember that our opponent’s rights are equally important and must be given the same level playing field that we demand for ourselves.
It’s just that simple.

You can download any of my books to your electronic device for $2.99 (click on slide show above) and if within 30 days of purchase, decided you don’t like it, you can e-mail me at and attach the Amazon confirmation of purchase and I’ll refund your money. (Sorry, USA resident only.) So why not take a chance? It’s a better deal than you’ll get from any book store and you just might find a new favorite author!

Monday, June 25, 2012

Aww, Crap! I'm a Sex Machine.

For those of you familiar with my blog posts, you know I possess a magic bathroom mirror that points out all my flaws and shortcomings whenever I’m in the vicinity of my reflection. It not-so-kindly comments on my age, reminds me that I’m past my prime, have a middle-age paunch, wear reading glasses and am careening toward my dotage like a cartoon drunk.
The only positive thing about the process is that as a man gets older his sex drive lessens.
WHAT?!!! you say. How can a lessening sex drive be a good thing?
I’ll explain. A man’s sex drive is akin to being a drug addict. From the minute he gets up in the morning till he goes to bed at night his primary concern is who he is going to have sex with.
Being married or having a live-in companion often solves this problem which permits the man to attend to other less important pursuits like eating, sleeping, bathing, getting dressed etc.
But without that significant other, well…
But the good news is once you settle into your fifties that crack-addict like need lessens permitting you to relax, grow old with your wife and enjoy your golden years.
That is unless your wife suddenly drops off the face of the Earth leaving you to start all over again.
Aww, crap!
But good news! As your body begins falling apart like an old car with high mileage, your primary concern switches from sex to what new medical issue is going to ruin your day. And as you get older the range from which to choose expands with your waistline. There are chest pains, high blood pressure, suspicious lumps, hearing loss, failing eyesight, back pain, I can go on and on but you get the picture.
And with my magic mirror— whom I have christened ‘Douchey McDouchebag’— pointing out my advancing decrepitude I said the hell with it, dropped out of the dating scene and devoted myself to the two things that make live worth living, pizza and beer.
Most of you probably already know this but I was surprised to discover that a steady diet of pizza and beer isn’t the Breakfast of Champions I was led to believe. And over a year’s time I noticed some physical changes. Like weight gain, swollen extremities, shortness of breath, high blood pressure, acid reflux and lack of energy.
Then one night while I’m stuffing my face watching TV, I saw Dr. Joel Fuhrman’s ‘Eat to Live’ paid program. It boils down to this. The reason people are hungry when they shouldn’t be is because their body isn’t receiving the necessary nutrients it needs to function properly. So to compensate the brain continues to send out the ‘EAT’ signal in the hope that you’ll stuff your pie hole with the vitamins and nutrients it actually requires.  
What are those nutrients? I don’t know but they’re in these 5 foods. Dr. Fuhrman calls it the GOMBS diet. It consists of this. G=Greens O=Onions M=Mushrooms B=Berries S=Seeds.
He says if you incorporate those 5 foods into your meals each day, you’ll notice a significant lessening of appetite, because when your body receives the necessary nutrients it stops sending out the ‘EAT’ signal.
“Balderdash!” I said but since Douchey McDouchebag had become unrelenting in his criticisms and my bathroom scale had begun to scream when I stepped on it, I decided to give it a try.
Holy crap! Over a period of 6 months I lost 40 pounds. NOW PAY ATTENTION: I am not promoting Dr. Fuhrman or his book. I have no idea if this will work for you. I only know it worked for me. And now that I’ve added the other nutrients my acupuncturist suggested, all my health problems have disappeared, with one disastrous side effect.
I got the sex drive of a teenager.
Aww, crap!
Because as we all know, there are few things hot, attractive women like more than a revitalized geezer hitting on them. Yep, just take this conversation between two beautiful women.
Mildred: “When I fantasize, I imagine myself making wild passionate love with men like Johnny Depp, Ryan Gosling and Tatum Channing.”
Mabel: “Not me, I prefer the edgy excitement of making love to the revitalized geezer. You know the saying, ‘Once you go Geez… Sooner or later one will drop dead”.
So ladies, a little advice: If you should see me approaching with a gleam in my eye and a swagger in my step…
Run like hell!

While you're here, why not read a sample from by books on the slide show above. Downloads are only $2.99 each and come with a money back guarantee, If within 30 days you decide you don't like the book, e-mail me at with Yahoo's Confirmation of Purchase and I'll refund your money (US residents only, sorry.) There's nothing to lose and you might very well gain a new favorite author. 

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

I'm A Pin-Up Boy!

I have been very fortunate in the fact that I’ve always enjoyed good health. This is certainly not due to anything I’ve done health-wise in fact, it’s probably in spite of it. Most likely it’s because I come from very hearty stock. Recently however, the damndest thing happened. Out of the blue my left thigh started to hurt. I blew it off at first but with each passing day it grew worse until it got to the point that I couldn’t walk.
So I went to the doctor and he diagnosed my conditions as, ‘beats the hell out of me’ and prescribed steroids, anti-inflammatories and pain killers. I’ve always been hesitant about taking meds because prescribed meds is what killed my father but sometimes a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do so I took the steroids and anti-inflammatories but not the pain-killers because macho-guys like me can handle pain.
Yeah, right.
A week later I’m in the emergency room and after a thorough examination the doctor confirms the previous doctor’s diagnosis, except he refers to it as CHRONIC ‘beats the hell out of me’ and has me continue the meds and orders an MRI.
I’m considerably claustrophobic so I mention this. He says not to worry, the place I’m going has ‘Open-MRI.’
An Open-MRI? So I’m thinking we’re looking at something similar to what Bones used on Star Trek and I’m fine with that.
I can almost hear the laughter coming from those of you who have had an ‘Open MRI' because OPEN has nothing to do with it.
I’ll explain.
Imagine lying down on an autopsy table and then having someone lock a heavy plastic brace on your body that holds you absolutely rigid. Then they leave the room and the autopsy table you’re laying upon slowly slides under something the size of a Chrysler Mini-van to a point where this behemoth of a machine is situated about one inch above your nose. Then imagine having to lie there motionless for 45 minutes while the machine makes a sound similar to somebody banging a bass drum next to you. But don’t worry because they give you ear plugs to help drown out the sound.  
Here’s an interesting fact. It’s called an Open-MRI because it’s not totally enclosed. While you’re held motionless by the thick plastic brace and have several tons of machinery hanging a mere inch or so above you, you can look out the side.  
Talk about false advertising!
The results come back negative.
That’s when my beloved daughter Turtledove advises me that she has contracted the services of a woman who, in order to ease my pain will jab pins into my body until I look like PINHEAD for the movie Hell-Raiser, she says  it’s because she loves me and will do whatever it takes to easy my suffering.
Suspecting that Turtledove might be looking forward to my demise so she can inherit the vast Richards fortune, I decline, momentarily forgetting that Turtledove, like all Richards’ women, are immensely powerful and Amazonian in physique.
So she laughs, picks me up, throws me in the truck of her car, takes me to the acupuncturist, hurls me into the room and says, “Kill him or cure him, Doc. I can’t take another minute of this whiney mope’s complaining.”
After my daughter leaves I find myself helplessly lying on this attractive woman’s table. She has a calming voice and a gentle demeanor. She asks what my problem is and as I explain she starts inserting pins into various places on my body.
It doesn’t hurt at all.
We continue to talk and I find myself relaxing and note that she has a number of diplomas and accreditations from renowned universities. After 20 minutes or so she puts on some soothing music and tells me to rest and that she’ll be back in 20 minutes.
So I do and damn near fall asleep, which is a lot more amazing than you might think because I have never, in my entire life, fallen asleep in anything other than a bed. Not in a car, not in a chair, not in a hammock.
She returns and suggests that I purchase some nutrients from a health food store to help bolster my immune system. So I do and within a few days the pain begins to subside. I continue seeing her and after 4 sessions I’m as good as new.
Was it the acupuncture therapy that cured me? I don’t know. A nurse friend suggested that it may have been a virus which can take up to 2 months to clear out. Perhaps, but I feel healthier than I have in a long time and I believe the acupuncture and nutrients had a lot to do with that. So if you’re in pain or feel lousy and your doctor can’t figure out what’s wrong with you, give acupuncture a try. And if you’re in the Glens Falls, New York area, contact the Spa Studio at 518-745-6909 and make an appointment with Emmajean Romback. You’ll be glad you did.      

Have you ever purchased a book then half way into it realize it’s terrible and get annoyed that you’ve wasted your hard earned money on a novel you’ll be donating to the library’s next book fair? That’s happened to me on a number of occasions so that’s why you can download any of my books to your electronic device for $2.99 (click on book cover on slide show above for info) and if within 30 days of purchase, decided you don’t like it, you can e-mail me at and attach the Amazon confirmation of purchase and I’ll refund your money. (Sorry, USA resident only. Mailing overseas would cost more to mail than the check itself.) So why not take a chance? It’s a better deal than you’ll get from any book store and you just might find a new favorite author!

Saturday, June 16, 2012

Ahoy, Scumbags!

        It’s somewhat common knowledge that I do not suffer fools gladly but overall I am a decent person who supports his community and would do whatever was necessary to help a neighbor in trouble.
So yesterday, using some lame excuse to check Facebook to avoid copyediting a submitted chapter bad enough to make my eyes bleed, I saw someone had posted an Amber Alert for a child in my area who had been forcibly abducted and last seen being driven off in a car with a Montreal Canada license plate. The post requested everyone reading it to please ‘Share’ to get the word out.
Having raised two daughters I could only imagine the absolute hell the parents were going through. 
So I hit the Share button and asked all my ‘Friends’ to ‘Share’.  Hopefully that monster would be caught and the child returned safe.
The next morning I checked Facebook and noted a Facebook ‘Friend’ replied to my Share request with an attachment to a link that pointed out that the Amber Alert for the abducted child was a hoax.
A hoax.
I can’t even begin to imagine why someone would do something like that. It’s beyond cruel, beyond sadistic and only fitting description I can come up with is flat out despicable. This pathetic excuse for a human being gets enjoyment by being the boy (or girl) who cried wolf? And for an abducted child, no less?
And here’s the downside. Because that posting made me feel like a gullible fool, should another Amber Alert be posted I’m sure I’ll check out its authenticity before asking others to Share. And should it turn out that the Amber Alert is legit, then I’d be endangering that child’s life every minute I spend verifying it.
But wait, there’s more!
Ladies and gentlemen may I direct your attention to scumbag number 2.
You may have noticed in previous blogs that I am a card carrying Catholic and love Jesus because, let’s face it, He is cool.
But because I consider a person’s religious beliefs (or lack thereof) their personal business I avoid the topic because in my experience I’ve noticed a lot of people talk the talk but in reality are duplicitous scumbags.
Case in point.
There is a site on Facebook that features illustrations of Jesus doing miracles, hugging children, caring for the sick etc. And at the bottom there is always some prompt asking that you ‘LIKE’ the page but only if you love Jesus.
That didn’t sound too Jesus-ee to me so I checked the site out and discovered it is a front for an insurance company.
So in actuality they are using Jesus as a means to prey on those whose core beliefs are tolerance, respect and forgiveness. Pretty damn sneaky. If they pulled that with some other religions, and you know the one’s I’m talking about, they’d be dead within the week.
And speaking about being dead within the week, I’d like to address the worst of all scumbags, those child-molesting, predatory priests and clergy who have brought disgrace to their church, their followers and the world-wide community. And I’d just like to remind them of Matthew’s gospel. You know, the one where Jesus talks about causing children to sin and how it would be better if those who did tied a millstone around their necks and drown in the depths of the sea.
Well, have I got good news!
Here at Uncle Zack’s Millstone Emporium and One Way Boat Rides, we are selling millstones at prices so low we’re driving the competition crazy! Plus we’ll throw in the rope for FREE! So what are you waiting for? Come to beautiful Lake George today and purchase one of our premier packages, which, for a limited time only, includes our best selling ‘Shuffle off to Hell’ extravaganza!
That’s right. You get one full-size millstone, a full-length full-sized hemp rope guaranteed not to fray, snap or unravel, and a one-way boat ride out to Lake George’s most tranquil and deepest waters where our professional crew will happily toss you, millstone and all over the side where you can meet up with others who share your interests. Mind you, it’s going to be hot, so dress appropriately. So c’mon and make your reservation today!  


If you enjoy my blog why not click on and download one of my books on the slideshow above?  Only $2.99 each and they come with a 30 day satisfaction guarantee. If within 30 days of purchase you decide you don’t like the book, e-mail me at and attach the Amazon confirmation of purchase and I’ll refund your money (USA residents only. Sorry but refunds oversea would cost more to mail than the check itself.)
So why not take a chance. You have nothing to lose and might very likely gain a new favorite author!  

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Cops vs. the Mentally Ill

As mentioned in previous posts several of my family members and friends are employed by law-enforcement. On the other hand, having spent a better part of my life in the arts, several of my close friends and loved ones have had bouts of mental illness. (The arty types are more sensitive and high strung and typically have more instances of mental problems than other groups.)
Since I am concerned for the welfare of both sides and having no interest in seeing either side win (whatever that means) I can better address the controversy without  personal feelings or prejudices becoming an issue.
So let’s get ready to rumble!
First we must logically and without preconceived notions, look at what the police were hired to do. Simply put, their job is to be the first line of defense against criminals. 
By definition criminals are people who, willingly and knowingly, break the law for  personal gain with no regard for the pain and suffering they cause their victims.
Now let’s look at the mentally ill. One of the facts of mental illness is that the brains of the people suffering from it are malfunctioning and sending them incorrect information. We should not blame them for this anymore than we would blame a person with an extremely high fever for hallucinating. A perfect example is people with phobias. Because your brain is functioning properly, you cannot understand why a seemingly ‘normal’ person would become nearly catatonic with fear at the sight of a spider, or being trapped in an elevator, or being on the roof of a tall building. People with phobias don’t understand it either but in those instances their brain reads these circumstances as life threatening and throws the body into a panic.
I'll give you an example. Imagine you are relaxing during a flight home from some tropical paradise. You’re looking out the widow, watching the world below go by when suddenly, there’s an explosion and you see the wing buckle, then snap off. The oxygen masks drop down and the plane suddenly plummets at an ever increasing speed. People are flying out of their seats. The ground below is rushing toward you, people are screaming. Your heart is pounding, you can’t think, you want to run but there’s nowhere to go. You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die!
Can you think of any scenario more horrifying?
Well, my friends, that very feeling is what claustrophobics go through when they get stuck in an elevator.       
Clearly, people who are mentally ill are not criminals. But since the brains of the seriously mentally ill are sending them seriously wrong information, their actions often are.
Which brings us to the subject of police brutality against them. Typically people who join law-enforcement have some college education, some military background and enough self confidence and courage to believe they can confront criminals in dangerous situations and win the day. They are trained how and when to confront criminals, how to secure a perimeter, how to get hostages to safety and how, when necessary, to use lethal force.
What they are not trained for and what they cannot be trained for is how to anticipate the actions of a psychotic. Any psychiatrist or specialist in psychiatric disorders will tell you that because you cannot know what a mentally ill person’s brain is telling them, there is no way a police officer or anyone for that matter can prepare themselves for what the psychotic might do. They may appear docile and ready to surrender one moment and charge at you with butcher knife the next.
And if a medically trained and licensed psychiatrist, a person who has spent their entire career studying mental illness cannot figure out how to get a dangerous psychotic to surrender peacefully, then what chance does the average police officer have? Therefore for the protection of both sides, the responsibility of apprehending them should be taken out of the hands of the police and turned over to the Emergency Medical Services (EMS)
In these situations the police would be called in to determine whether the person is a criminal. In this case let’s say a person is wielding a samurai sword and chasing people down 5th Avenue declaring that the teen-age mutant ninja turtles are harboring members of al-Qaida. Seeing that this person is clearly suffering from mental illness, the cops call for an ambulance then walk away and let the EMT’s handle it.
This way as the person lops off heads and punts them into trashcans, the paramedics can focus on reasoning with him and appealing to his humanity and the cops can go back to focusing on their real job, fighting crime.
This is truly a win-win situation. With the police prevented from engaging violent lunatics, the police brutality law-suits would dry up. They would not longer have to risk their lives dealing with psychopaths and the only downside would be the brutal slayings of innocent people whose only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
Besides, their murderers aren’t bad people. They’re sick people who aren’t responsible for their actions. And they can’t be blamed for not taking their meds because again, they’re not responsible for their actions. And you can’t jail them because that would be a terrible thing to do to someone whose only crime is being sick.
Now here’s something to ponder.
You’ve all heard of Typhoid Mary. Irish immigrant and a typhoid carrier who became a cook and spread the disease killing many of the members of the families she worked for. She was eventually apprehended and placed in a leper colony called Little Brother Island in the Bronx. For 5 years she fought for her freedom, denying she was a carrier because she herself had never been sick. Finally she was released on the condition she never work as a cook again. She agreed.
Several years later she was apprehended following a major typhoid outbreak and multiple deaths at Sloan Maternity Hospital where she worked as a cook under an alias. She was sent back to Little Brother Island and remained there until her death in 1935.
Imagine doing that to a person whose only crime was being sick!

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!! This summer, the long awaited sequel to ‘Noon The Rise to Power’ will be released. The title is: ‘Noon 2, The Resurgence’ and it picks up right where the first one left off.
Now I’d like to make a deal with you.
Download a copy of ‘Noon The Rise to Power to your electronic device. It will cost you only $2.99 and if within 30 days you decide you don’t like it. E-mail me at  attach the confirmation of purchase from Amazon and I will refund your money. (Unfortunately I can only make this offer to my buddies here in the U.S. To send a check overseas would cost more to mail than the check itself.)
      I’m sure you will like the book. It’s my best seller and the one people constantly ask me about during interviews. Especially the characters of Dandelion and the I-Man. Who are they? Click below to find out. I promise you won’t regret it!

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Why Aren't You Dead Yet?

I come from a long line of people who just won’t die. Not that I want them to, they’re very nice but genetically we, as a family group, far outlive our usefulness. I’m in my fifties and sadly I have already lost several friends to heart disease, cancer, diabetes and stroke and although for people in their fifties to die from those conditions is sad, it’s not all that unusual.
I bring this up is because virtually every television commercial these days has something to do with improving your health and increasing your longevity.
This is not always a good thing.
Here’s why.
My mother is 86, her older sister is 88 her younger sister is 84. All are in perfect health, meaning they not receiving treatment for any physical disease or body part malfunction. During her bi-yearly check up and physical, my mother’s doctor once again pronounced her to be ‘as fit as a fiddle’. (I have no idea how one checks a fiddle’s fitness but I’ll assume that prognosis means she’s fine and has many more years ahead of her.)
Although it’s true there is nothing life threateningly wrong with her, she is falling apart. I won’t go into details but what these commercials don’t tell you is that even if you are in ‘perfect health’ the older you get the more things hurt, malfunction or simply stop working.
The old girl never complains but it’s sad to see someone who, in her prime, was a virtual superwoman. She worked in Manhattan as an executive secretary to the CEO of one of New York’s top architectural firms for over 25 years. Was a successful artist in her own right and had many quick–witted, successful, talented woman friends.
The problem is they’re all dead.
Every one.
I saw a cartoon the other day. It featured two old women sitting on a porch. One says to the other. “I’ve lived so damn long I’m afraid my friends in heaven will think I didn’t make the cut.”     
My great grandfather lived to be 104. My grandmother lived to be 102. When she was alive and I told people that she was over 100 they’d say things like, ‘Oh isn’t that wonderful! And ‘Oh, good for her!”
What they didn’t realize was that behind every 100 year old woman is an 80 year old woman working as her care giver, which is what my mother did up until the day my grandmother died.
Another problem with old age is that all the things you enjoy slowly disappear. My mother grew up in the big band era. There are no big bands anymore. In her day movie stars were glamorous and larger than life. Now it seems to be a race to see who can get naked the fastest. Men tipped their hat to ladies, opened car doors for them, treated them like queens. Now they’re referred to as bitches and ho’s.
Early television featured well written wholesome content which could be viewed by kids and parents alike. Certainly not anymore. Now we have ‘Dancing with the Has-Beens,’ Singing contests and Reality shows featuring imbeciles who only claim to fame is having a big ass and a sex tape.
 I’m not one to bewail ‘days gone by’ but I’m ticked off that now that I have a giant flat screen hi-def super television I’m hard pressed to find anything on it worth watching.
But what’s scaring me is what happened to my mother is now happening to me. I grew up in the sixties. I loved the Beatles and the Stones. But neither McCartney nor the Stones have put out an album worth listening to in 20 years. In fact I can’t find one new song on the radio worth listening to and I’m pretty convinced that RAP is the music they play in Hell.
Back then, Mohammed Ali was the king of boxing and took on some of the greatest boxers in the history of the sport. The ‘Thrilla in Manila’ was a battle between the gods. Nowadays there isn’t a boxer good enough to carry Ali’s jock strap.
This generation is fascinated with video games and virtually anything computer. Some of my younger friends don’t even own televisions. When I was younger not owning a television was one of the warning signs of mental illness so when someone announced that they ‘didn’t watch TV’ we’d smile, nod and slowly back away.
Perhaps the way it works is that each generation gets its own train filled with their interests. I hated everything from my parents generation, the big bands, Sinatra, John Wayne, movies about WW2, Bob Hope, Milton Berle etc. I don’t believe my life began until one day while in a malt shop as a very young kid someone put money in the juke box and out came “Wop Bop a lu bop a wop bam boom! Translated that meant, ‘Ladies and Gentlemen start your engines!’ Because right after that came the Beatles and the British Invasion and Monty Python and ‘The Rumble in the Jungle’ and…and…
And then John Lennon was gunned down and the sound of that gunshot transformed into a train whistle that signaled that my generation’s train was packing up and pulling out to make way for the next generation’s train.
And with each passing day the joys from my generation grow smaller and smaller and move further away…
Wait for me!

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT!! This summer, the long awaited sequel to ‘Noon The Rise to Power’ will be released. The title is: ‘Noon 2, The Resurgence’ and it picks up right where the first one left off.
Now I’d like to make a deal with you.
Download a copy of ‘Noon The Rise to Power to your electronic device. It will cost you only $2.99 and if within 30 days you decide you don’t like it. E-mail me at  attach the confirmation of purchase from Amazon and I will refund your money. (Unfortunately I can only make this offer to my buddies here in the U.S. To send a check overseas would cost more to mail than the check itself.)
I’m sure you will like the book. It’s my best seller and the one people constantly ask me about during interviews. Especially the characters of Dandelion and the I-Man. Who are they? Click below to find out. I promise you won’t regret it!

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Fun with Sadism!

When my imaginary three-year-old grandson Bosco Obama the Third comes to my house, he often climbs into my lap, looks at me lovingly with those big beautiful eyes and asks a question. Today the question was, “Gam’pa, (he calls me Gam’pa, isn’t that cute?) “how come Mommy says you’re f**ked in the head?”
To which I reply, “Well, Bosco, it’s probably because your dear mother grew up in this very house and is well aware of my religious beliefs.”
“Please elaborate,” little Bosco says.
“Well, you see, my beliefs fall outside the parameters of what is considered the norm. Most people believe God created them and placed them on Earth to lead good and productive lives. Others believe that if you do wrong in this life you’re sent back to make up for all the bad you’ve done. There are many other beliefs but I don’t buy into them, because I’ve already figured out why I’m here.”
Overhearing this, my beloved daughter Turtledove storms in and bellows, “Don’t you go filling my son’s head with that loony tune crap you insane, old f**ktard!”
“Mother please!” Bosco says as he grabs my arm to keep me from reaching for my shotgun. “We need to respect all religions as long as they don’t promote violence or hatred no matter how stupid or asinine. And we should especially respect those of people like Gam’pa, who, as we know, could snap and go on a killing spree at any moment.”
My daughter nods. “As usual you’re right and all I ask, my son, is that you let whatever he says go in one ear and out the other.”
“Don’t I always, mother?” he replies. As she leaves the room, I continue my tale.
“So here’s what happened. I’m originally from another planet or dimension, or alternative reality or whatever, just some other place. And in that place, everyone is just like me. They can all write books and music and draw and tell jokes and basically entertain each other without needing television or movies. And because we’re all happy doing that stuff there are never any wars or riots or social unrest because it would take from our creative time and we’re all just too busy creating stuff to muck about with such nonsense.
“Well, almost all of us.
“You see, Bosco Obama the Third, in the middle of all this joy, of all this fun in a literally perfect existence, one damn fool decided it wasn’t enough to be happy and fulfilled. No! He wanted to be a ruler, a king. He wanted all the attention to be focused on him and for everybody to do what he told them. And so he set out and made this seriously stupid idea happen which made everybody very unhappy for a very long time.
Fortunately one day, the UNIVERSE just happened to be driving by and when he saw this, pulled Glock 9 and popped a cap in his ass.
“And the people all lived happily ever after!” Bosco said with a big smile.
 “They sure did,” I said as I tussled his hair. “But the story isn’t over. You see, the guy who was making everybody miserable had to appear before the UNIVERSE to explain why he did what he did. Well, of course he couldn’t, so the UNIVERSE said, “Since you like to make people miserable, I’m going to sent you to a place where people specialize at it.
Bosco eyed me. “Am I to assume that you’re the dick who made everybody miserable and as punishment got sent to Earth?”
“Apparently so,” I replied. “And boy, was the UNIVERSE right about the people here. I mean, what wrong with them? Have you read the history of this place? Do you have any idea what these lunatics regularly do to each other? Seriously, who came up with the idea of nailing somebody to a cross? And why, when this psycho suggested it, didn’t everybody grab him and put him in a mental institution? Same goes for burning someone at the stake. Holy mother of Bob, Bosco! They set human beings on fire because they believed these certain people weren’t really human but instead an imaginary character called a witch. That would be like a mob coming here and dragging me off to hang me because they believed I was a Klingon.”
“I’d join that mob,” Turtledove called out from the next room.
“Mother please,” Bosco calls out. “You know it’s unwise to taunt a man while he’s undergoing a psychotic episode.”
He turns to me and says, “Please continue.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like we don’t know better. The great philosophers of the ages all promoted peace. Aristotle, Confucius, Gandhi and especially Rodney King, whose immortal words, ‘Can’t we all just get along?’ have become the lynchpin of my belief system. And furthermore…”
It is then I realize that the house is empty, it’s become dark outside and I’m just talking to myself.
Nice visit though.

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